Read Fenella J Miller for Free Online Page B

garbed
Frenchman, bowed deeply. ‘My lord, I am so honoured to be ’ere at your so
magnificent ’ ome .’ Monsieur Ducray skipped to one side allowing the second occupant of the coach to descend.
‘Allow me to make known to you, Count Everex.’
    A prickle of
unease flickered through Ned as he bowed more formally to the second man. This
man was exactly the sort of person one would expect to be involved in
treachery. He was of medium height, dark hair swept back and secured by a
ribbon at the back of his neck. His aquiline features gave credence to his
pedigree. He was every inch an aristocrat. Where had this man sprung from? He
had not been in Ipswich yesterday. This man’s garments were the height of
fashion, no different from his own, hardly what one would expect of a person
who made his living flying balloons for the entertainment of the public.
    ‘Lord Weston, I can see that you
are surprised by my appearance here. I am, as you have no doubt surmised, an
amateur. Ducray has kindly offered to teach me the intricacies of piloting. I
hope you do not object to my accompanying him here?’ The count’s English was accentless , unlike his compatriot who had yet to master it.
    ‘You are welcome, sir. Allow me
to take you inside and introduce you to my guests.’ Ned smiled, at his most
urbane. ‘From your faultless English, Count, I would surmise you have been
resident in England for some years.’
    The count nodded. ‘My mother is
English, Lord Weston. My father died when I was a boy and we returned to my
mother’s ancestral home where I grew up. I have not visited my estates in
France since the revolution.’
    ‘Your mother’s
name? Would I know your family?’ The man beside him stiffened; had he
asked one question too many? ‘I only ask, sir, as your face looks familiar. You
are the image of Lord Stanhope, a dear friend of my grandfather’s; sadly both
gentlemen are no longer with us.’
    This fabrication appeared to
satisfy the count. ‘Coincidence, my lord. I am no
relation to the Stanhopes .’ He did not offer any
further information about his ancestry.
    ‘I imagine you would like to
supervise the unloading of your gear before you come up the house, Ducray?’
    ‘I would, my lord. ’ owever , the count ’as no need to
be ’ere with me. I ’ ope you ’ ave no objection to ’is staying too?’
    Ned nodded in the gentleman’s
direction. ‘Of course not, monsieur . My guests will be delighted to have another added
to their number.’
    ‘It is a large house party you
have, my lord?’ The count sounded anxious.
    ‘No, not
particularly. At the moment there are five ladies and four gentlemen.
Your arrival will even up the numbers nicely.’
    He turned to lead the way to the front
of the house. Immediately he spied his cousin walking arm in arm with Miss
Coombs, obviously coming from the direction of the maze. They were talking like
old friends, not two people who had only met the previous day. He had no desire
to introduce the elegant Frenchman to either of them. He increased his pace
allowing his guest no alternative but to hurry after him. The household staff had already been alerted and were waiting to greet the
new arrival.
    ‘I shall hand you over to my
staff who will look after your requirements. We dine
at seven. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance then.’
    He turned smartly and strode off
to intercept his cousin and Miss Coombs.

 
    Penny didn’t see her host heading
in her direction but her escort did. ‘Come, Miss Coombs, allow me to show you
the orangery. It’s situated on the far side of the mansion and is well worth a
detour.’
    ‘Thank you, Mr Weston, but I
believe I’m ready to return to my rooms. Perhaps you could take me tomorrow
after breakfast, when it’s not so hot?’
    ‘Of course, forgive me. I have
had a most enjoyable walk, and shall look forward to escorting you in the
morning.’ The young man smiled and released his hold. ‘If you will excuse me,
Miss